“Hello, customer. We’re with the door lock company...”

Seoryeong returned home in a daze, thrown by the kind of call she’d never received before.

Apparently, it was a service where technicians would be dispatched immediately in the event of any damage to the door lock. Up until just before the call, she hadn’t even known her front door had such a feature. It must’ve been something her husband had arranged beforehand.

“What the hell...”

When she arrived at her apartment, the scene that greeted her was someone locked in a standoff with a security technician.

She halted for a second, lips parted in confusion, then stepped forward. At that, the technician in the vest looked over and acknowledged her.

“You’re the homeowner, right?”

“...Yes, I am. Why?”

“Phew... finally someone I can talk to. We got dispatched because the security system flagged a tampering attempt, and then this guy here—he was ripping the door lock apart. And he keeps claiming he knows you...”

The technician let out a sigh of relief. Seoryeong’s disbelieving eyes turned to the man he’d called “this guy.”

Tall frame, broad shoulders, a rigid posture that radiated pressure—it filled the narrow stairwell. She frowned faintly.

“Last time, you just punched the door. Now you’re tearing it off entirely, Instructor.”

“Changed the code, didn’t you?”

The curt question seemed more like an interrogation—Did you change it? Or why did you change it? There was something pointed in his tone.

“Yes, this morning. Someone slipped in silently, and I realized... with people like you, I bet the front door password was practically public info.”

Mindful of the technician’s presence, she carefully avoided mentioning the NIS.

The employee, still lingering nearby, eyed Lee Wooshin with visible suspicion.

“You’re definitely not the husband I saw before...”

“Excuse me?”

Seoryeong’s face tightened at the offhand comment.

“You remember my husband?”

“Yes, of course.”

The man furrowed his brow as he recalled.

“Very tall... and he kept emphasizing how his wife had health issues, so if there was ever a problem with the lock, he asked us to take special care.”

“When?”

“Sorry?”

She grabbed his wrist suddenly. The technician flinched, startled. But to Seoryeong, this was the first person to claim they’d actually seen Kim Hyeon. Her heart dropped through the floor.

She stared without blinking.

“When did you see him?”

“Uh... it was before the year changed, so maybe last fall...”

“......!”

That would’ve been just before Kim Hyeon disappeared. Her grip on the man’s wrist tightened, eyes flashing.

“What did he look like?”

“Sorry?”

“You said you saw him—his face.”

“Uh...”

“Do you remember any details?”

At that moment, Lee Wooshin, who had been watching in silence, clicked his tongue hard. His gaze flicked toward the bruises on her cheeks, and he pushed his hair back like this whole situation was a pain in the ass.

“Well... he had a gentle, solid kind of face?”

“Like a rock?”

“Sorry? Hmm... not that rugged...”

“But still... kind of a traditional, masculine look?”

She was desperate to have even a vague sketch of her husband’s face confirmed.

After he disappeared, even the people around him vanished. This was the first eyewitness account, however sloppy, and she felt that she had to validate it—just to make Kim Hyeon feel real again.

“Ah... yes! That’s it!”

The man nodded vigorously.

“But... your husband’s not around anymore, is he?”

His voice lowered suddenly, cautious and curious. His gaze lingered on her.

“So, are you living here alone?”

“Alone? Yeah, right.”

A cold voice cut in without warning.

“Can’t you see her boyfriend’s got a nasty temper?”

He’d vanished after carelessly dumping his gear at her door. Now, he was back, dressed in a sharp black suit.

But no matter how formal he looked, it didn’t matter. He was holding the dismantled door lock in one hand—obviously the one he’d torn out himself.

Wires dangled like severed veins, and the keypad’s cover was shattered.

“What the hell are you thinking, asking shit like that?”

“......!”

“If she were really living alone—”

He yanked the technician by the collar. His icy gaze raked across the man’s face.

“I’d have visited your house first.”

“......!”

“You said her husband kept asking you to look after her, right? Then maybe you should’ve locked the damn door properly, instead of pulling this creepy shit.”

“C-creepy? I didn’t—!”

The man staggered, barely managing to keep his balance on his toes.

“You’re not the only one with access to customer data.”

That threat sent the technician fleeing in terror. But that was only the beginning.

With a sigh, Seoryeong furrowed her brows.

“Instructor... you always barge into my business. You could’ve just asked the guy for a composite sketch!”

“A composite sketch is for wanted suspects.”

“That’s why!”

“......”

Wooshin frowned in displeasure. Then he bent down to meet her eye level, voice low and deliberate like he was lecturing a child.

“Don’t get near perverts like that. Even if you tried to find him again, it won’t happen. Don’t waste your energy.”

He spoke like it was a guarantee.

Caught in a strange mood, Seoryeong stared silently at him.

That’s when the doubts and frustrations she’d pushed aside came rushing back.

“...I was too shaken to ask last time. I saw your car leaving the alley—how the hell did you know to come?”

“...I had a bad feeling.”

His eyebrow twitched with little effort.

“And that’s your excuse for ripping off someone else’s door lock?”

“Didn’t know the code anyway.”

“......”

“But I figured... if I crossed a line, it’d make Recruit Han Seoryeong pop out faster. And honestly? It worked great.”

She had no words. The truth was, she had come sprinting out in a panic when she saw him ripping into the lock. So he wasn’t exactly wrong.

“Honestly, I didn’t expect someone like you to care about ‘what’s appropriate.’”

He pushed the broken lock back and forth with his thumb and let out a short laugh.

“Once a lock’s breached, {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} it’s worthless anyway. I was going to replace it with a new one. Today.”

“Without telling the homeowner?”

“You don’t trust the guy who rolled around in the snow with you?”

“......”

This wasn’t about trust. She was so dumbfounded she couldn’t respond. Meanwhile, he knelt down and pulled a new digital lock out of the duffel bag he’d brought.

She had suspected it was his, but she hadn’t expected it to be filled with tools instead of essentials. Cross, flathead, hex, star, triangle—every type of screwdriver imaginable. Seoryeong just blinked, seated on the stairs.

He removed the remaining screws, then drilled holes into the door with a blank expression. As if he was just naturally good at this sort of thing.

He’d been like that a few days ago too—tidying her oil-smeared home, lining up ointments for her face without saying a word, then leaving just as quietly.

She had plenty to confront him about, but there was no reason to stop someone who walked away with such a hardened expression. A few days had passed like that.

Now, she quietly watched him work, eyes trailing over his form. Kneeling like that, his suit pants were stretched taut without a wrinkle.

Her gaze inadvertently dropped to his thigh, seeing the defined shape under the fabric. She flinched and turned her head. Something inside her prickled, like it had been burned.

“...Even if we’re going to live together, there’s something I want you to respect.”

He glanced up, raising an eyebrow.

“The room in front of the master bedroom... it was my husband’s study and closet. It’s locked. Please don’t get curious or try to break in like you did today.”

“......”

Wooshin’s skilled hands paused. The drill whirred in midair, loud and aimless.

He stared at her with an unreadable gaze, swallowed hard, then turned back to the lock. His hands moved again like nothing had happened.

Then, his voice came low and dry behind a furrowed brow.

“Feels like I’ve become Bluebeard’s wife.”

“...Excuse me?”

“It’s an old fairy tale. A nobleman tells his wife she can go anywhere in the mansion—except one room. She opens it anyway. Inside are the corpses of his previous wives, all declared missing.”

“That’s a children’s story?”

“The ones meant for kids are always the most brutal.”

His tone was casual, but a chill passed over his face sharper than winter frost.

“It’s similar, really.”

Seoryeong rested her chin on her hand and answered dully.

“It’s a room I’ve preserved in my own way. The scent, the shape.”

“......”

“So don’t ruin it. Again.”

Without a word, Wooshin took her hand and pressed it against the new handle. His hand was hot and damp.

In a quiet voice, he explained that this lock read veins. It scanned blood vessels in the palm like a barcode. Seoryeong’s eyes widened.

“Where did you even get something like this?”

“This kind of tech is more common than you think.”

Looking at his firm jawline, she found herself unable to press further.

“No one’s getting in without permission anymore. So let’s not get punched in the face again.”

He pressed her palm against the handle several times—registering it, she realized.

Each press lit up her nerves. She started absorbing fragments of his presence all at once.

The rough fabric of his winter suit brushing her wrist, the dark, unfamiliar cologne, the foreign shampoo, the sterile smell of a car’s air freshener, the quiet, breathless stillness of his movements...

Overwhelmed, she flung the front door open. Because he hadn’t let go, Wooshin stumbled forward into the entryway with her.

She quickly yanked her hand away, face crinkling. Only when she stepped past the inner door did she feel like she could breathe again.

“You’ll use this room from now on. Hur Channa stayed in it briefly. It’s for guests.”

She pointed curtly at the small bedroom. Wooshin’s expression darkened.

“Hur Channa lived here?”

“Yes. Briefly.”

“In this house?”

“Yes.”

“......”

His jaw clenched and he shut his mouth. Seoryeong didn’t care and kept going.

“And let’s make one thing clear—this isn’t cohabitation. It’s a strictly professional living arrangement. It’ll last until I find my husband, Kim Hyeon.”

Kim Hyeon.

The name left her lips, and Wooshin echoed it quietly. Kim Hyeon. Kim Hyeon. Hearing him say it in that now-familiar voice made her breath catch.

He looked around the house again with those unreadable eyes, then smiled softly. The emotion behind it—whether anxiety or anticipation—was impossible to tell.

“...This house was returned to me under my name as a wedding anniversary gift. So honestly, I don’t feel comfortable letting you stay here. But we made a fair deal. So I won’t give you grief. Make yourself at home. Just... leave when the job’s done.”

“Understood.”

He nodded calmly—almost like he’d been waiting for her to say that—then walked out to the veranda and yanked open all the blackout blinds.

Sunlight streamed in, starting from his feet and spreading across the room. Seoryeong winced and lifted her hand to block it.

The once-dark room flooded with midday brightness. Spring hadn’t come yet, but somehow... she realized winter was nearing its end.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she was aware of the seasons changing. It was a joy and a luxury she hadn’t allowed herself to feel, even after regaining her sight.

Just then, Lee Wooshin turned his head to look at her.

“Shall we finally see how Kim Hyeon’s story ends this time?”

“......”

The sun beating down on her face was welcome.

Even the uncertainty of this in-between season felt better—because this time, she could witness it with her own eyes.

Her heart stirred strangely.